


Decision Time

by Sugarmouse



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal, Drunk Sex, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 16:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarmouse/pseuds/Sugarmouse
Summary: For@psychoticobsessedfangirlas part of #HannibalHoliday2017!A little canon divergent AU where Hannibal and Will meet at a party where the free alcohol flows.





	Decision Time

He can feel eyes on him, every time he looks away, he can sense it. Hannibal prevents the smile that wants to creep onto his lips and turns to look at Will Graham. He holds out his hand. “Mr Graham, I’ve heard so much about you.” Will frowns looking down at the hand between them and gripping his own elbow instead of reaching for it. He looks discomfited, caught out in staring or perhaps embarrassed by the thought of Alana talking about him.

“I wouldn’t think it ethical for Alana’s psychiatrist friends to talk about what they’ve been gossiping about to the subject of said gossip.”

Hannibal can’t help but laugh. He withdraws his hand and tilts his head. “Or perhaps she has just mentioned her brilliant colleague at the FBI?”

Will rolls his eyes, grabbing a glass of Champagne from a passing tray. He looks so very out of place in this setting, his tweet jacket, his lack of tie, his unshaven face. Hannibal can’t help but note that the stubble is covering a particularly handsome face. Hannibal appreciates beauty wherever it’s found.

He watches Will swallow the drink and Hannibal can’t help but swallow. Will is standing out from the crowd in every sense. Alana had mentioned him, particularly his eccentricities and while Hannibal had held a mild interest in her words, the man before him is interesting for entirely different reasons.

Hannibal plucks two glasses from a passing tray and holds one out to Will, allowing him to replace the empty glass in his hand.

”There is not enough alcohol to make me _want_ to be here doctor….?”

”My apologies, I have neglected to introduce myself. Hannibal Lecter....and while yes, I am indeed a doctor, I don’t believe….”

”Everyone here is a doctor...psychiatrists to be precise.” says Will, cutting off the implied question and rolling his eyes. “Can’t stand psychiatrists.” He pauses and looks at Hannibal, a small smile on his lips. “No offense.”

Hannibal smiles before lifting his glass to his lips. He can’t seem to take his eyes off this man and while he recognises this no doubt passing interest, he doubts it will last. Still, he may as well enjoy it now and he lowers the glass from his lips and says “Well I will have to avoid sounding like a psychiatrist.”

Will rolls his eyes but Hannibal can see the small smirk on his face, quickly wiped away.

*****

Will is normally the first to leave a party, look for any exit to slip away and yet he finds the conversation with Dr Lecter, _Hannibal_ as he insists, continues on with significantly less effort than Will is used to. It’s nice, to speak and not have to feel as though every word is work, as though he is second guessing everything. Perhaps he should be, he can recognise some of the looks in Hannibal’s eyes and can feel himself returning some of those thoughts. Is it merely an echoing of the energy between them, is it too much Champagne and boredom and a handsome interesting individual?

Whenever he has found himself distracted by these overwhelming thoughts, Will has reached for another drink. It’s not the best way to deal with any problem, he can recognise that and yet, it’s easier to use the alcohol to quiet that voice in his head. He’s had a lot, so when he finds himself walking out of Alana’s party with Hannibal, he doesn’t recall agreeing to go with him. He doesn’t seem to mind though, even when Hannibal grips his elbow and steers him towards a waiting car. There’s something magnetic about Hannibal, beyond his personality and looks, and obvious sophistication. Even the touch of his fingers seems to pull Will closer and Will is past thinking about whether he should have drunk quite so much. He is past thinking about what is going to happen next.

Hannibal speaks to the driver and Will thinks that Hannibal must be very wealthy to have someone drive him to social engagements. He knows Alana knows some very fancy doctors but even Hannibal seems to exude a type of class that should make Will more self conscious. He finds his hand on Hannibal’s in the gap between them, the warmth of Hannibal’s fingers feeling shocking. He looks up and Hannibal smiles at him and Will doesn’t _do_ this, he doesn’t want these kinds of things and yet suddenly, he wants Hannibal and he wants Hannibal to want him.

*****

He’s kissing him, his lips are warm and firm in their press against his own. He is losing track of time and space, of where they and their limbs are in relation to each other. He is unused to how much broader Hannibal is, to how aggressively he presses against Will, to each small roughness. He claws at Hannibal’s clothes, for lack of anything else to do with his hands and from desire to be nearer, to somehow make them exist within the same space.

Hannibal perhaps is more aware of what is happening, able to steer them, able to ensure they end up on a bed and that clothing isn’t torn in desperation.

Will feels overwhelmed, there is too much happening. He feels as though Hannibal must have more than two hands, more than a single pair of lips. He can feel him all over, touching and caressing. He is dimly aware that he is simply lying still and allowing Hannibal to do the work and he is more and more aware that this makes him a poor lover. He blindly reaches, getting fingers into Hannibal’s hair and despite how perfect Hannibal’s hair has been until now, he grips against the back and pulls Hannibal’s lips to meet his own.

Hannibal does pull his lips from Will’s, once they’re both gasping for breath and Will can feel as though his lips are too hot and tender. He can feel his own heart beating in his ears and he listens to it, listens as it drowns out everything else. He feels Hannibal’s weight slip away and he is disappointed. He struggles to sit up, propping himself on his elbows and looking down the length of his own naked body. Perhaps he should feel self conscious, suddenly aware that Hannibal has seen him. He looks across at Hannibal and he feels as though it’s difficult to breathe.

Hannibal smiles at him and Will is so very aware of the air of the room against his own cock, hard and wanting. He was barely even aware of how turned on he finds himself, as though it has crept up behind him, as though Hannibal has somehow hidden his arousal until it was too late. He swallows, his eyes drawn to Hannibal’s own erection and he considers what he wants to do. He wants to touch it, at least, but perhaps he wants to taste it too, or more, and he finds his voice has abandoned him in the moment.

Hannibal returns to the bed, leaving items beside them and Will doesn’t think what those items are. He doesn’t consider how far things have come, how quickly they’ve escalated beyond him, beyond any control of himself and of the situation they’ve come. He wants to tell Hannibal that he’s never...that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s mute and soon enough Hannibal’s lips are covering his own and he can’t speak.

Hannibal seems to know, seems to sense that he needs to take the lead. Hannibal kisses him deeply and Will closes his eyes and waits for Hannibal to do what he will, knowing that whatever it is, must be what they both want right now, for Will does not know what that is.

When Hannibal’s fingers touch his dick, he feels as though they’re burning hot, his fingers a searing flame against sensitive skin. He gasps, hips rocking and needing more but it feeling too much. He wants to last, he tries to think of other thoughts, but he is only sensation right now, further imagination seems to have abandoned him.

He feels the dimly familiar sensation of a condom being rolled onto him and he grips the sheets beneath him with tense fingers. He opens his eyes and looks at Hannibal and the anxiety seems to slip away at the reassuring look on Hannibal’s face. “Just relax,” Hannibal whispers. Will is not sure if he really heard the words out loud or imagined them based on Hannibal’s expression.

Hannibal sits more upright and Will finds his hand reaching up to run through the hair on Hannibal’s chest. He had wanted to touch it, and so he did. He smiles and sees Hannibal smile back at him. Hannibal rocks his hips, reaching behind himself to steer Will into himself. Will gasps, his mind realising and feeling all the sensations that have until now been drifting to the background. Everything is suddenly sharply in focus and he slides his hands to Hannibal’s hips, everything feeling different to any other lover. He’s stronger, powerful and yet, he is soft and perfect in ways Will can’t wrap his fogged mind around.

He doesn’t think he can last, not as Hannibal begins to rock his hips and lean forward, bringing their chests closer but not close enough. Will slides his hands up Hannibal’s sides, running up and over his shoulders, across his chest and nipples, he circles them with his thumbs before following the line of Hannibal’s torso down, to the erection rubbing against Will’s belly.

Will hasn’t touched another man in this way, but he doesn’t hesitate, wrapping fingers around and sliding his hand along it. The angle is different, the dick in his hand is so different from his own. He slides the foreskin back and forth and finds the contrast between it and his own circumcised dick to be interesting.

Hannibal groans, moving his hips faster and Will feels his own pleasure rising to a peak. It sneaks up behind him, running hotly down his body and focusing on the sensations of his own cock, being squeezed inside Hannibal’s body. He’s coming suddenly, as expected as it is, it feels unexpected, everything whiting out and going numb to anything other than the orgasm. He squeezes the dick in his hand and Hannibal groans. The sound makes Will lose his breath further and he pants as though exhausted, despite Hannibal doing the work.

Hannibal’s fingers close over his own, speeding the movements of Will’s hand and tugging himself faster, bringing him closer to the edge. Will feels overstimulated, his cock feels trapped inside Hannibal’s body and he’s suddenly alert, watching the man above him chase his own pleasure, eyes shut and mouth open.

When Hannibal comes, Will feels the hot wet of his orgasm against his chest. He feels the pulse and constriction around his own softening cock. He hears Hannibal’s exhale, as though a sigh of relief, as though this is what he’s wanted all along.

Hannibal moves off him, rolling onto the bed beside him and they lay like that, side by side, looking up at the ceiling. They both just breathe, catching up on the oxygen they feel deprived of. Part of Will wants to speak now. He wants to break this silence. Perhaps he wants to make an excuse, a reason why this is a mistake and yet, he doesn’t want to excuse it. Perhaps he wants to warn Hannibal, to tell him that he’s not good enough, that he’s not sane enough to be with anyone and that he’s not _gay_ , despite how much he liked this, despite how much he wanted it in the moment.

He knows he’s just making excuses, knows that none of this means anything, that what has already happened has happened, that despite how much he wishes, he cannot change the past or control the future.

Will closes his eyes, listening and feeling the movements of Hannibal as he gets up and strips the condom from Will and wipes things down. He allows Hannibal to pull the sheets back from the bed, moving his legs as Hannibal nudges him, he allows Hannibal to position them both in the bed and he even allows Hannibal to curl behind him. He feels safe in the strong circle of Hannibal’s arms and perhaps he shouldn’t, he barely knows the man after all. Will feels a bit guilty for leading him on, at least he feels it for the few moments before he falls into a deep sleep.

*****

Hannibal is not in the bed, when Will awakes. He is momentarily disoriented, wondering where his dogs are and then feeling guilt at how worried they might be, when he didn’t return home last night.

His head is pounding, from far too much alcohol and what he thinks may be poor decisions but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. He scrambles from the bed, looking for his clothes and finding them folded in a neat pile on a chair that looks as though it probably cost more than his house. Everything in this room seems extravagant and expensive. Will feels out of his depth.

He dresses quickly, daring to try one of the doors that he thinks might be the bathroom and being rewarded with an ensuite bathroom bigger than his own bedroom. He would love to have a shower but he just needs to be back on familiar ground. He needs to be home and away from the person who could make him go so far outside of himself.

After relieving his bladder, Will fishes in his pockets to find his phone. He has several missed calls and he frowns before opening the accompanying text messages. Another girl taken in Minnesota. Will frowns. He doesn’t want to be back involved with this, doesn’t want to go to help Jack again but he may not have a choice. He tucks the phone back into his pocket.

Will isn’t used to sneaking out of a one night stand’s house. He’s never done this before and he feels himself blush at running into Hannibal downstairs. He tries to be quiet as he walks down, but Hannibal is there, smiling at him. He looks good, the man managing to pull off a sweater and pajama pants as well as a three piece suit.

”I made breakfast,” says Hannibal and Will’s throat feels tight, touched by the thought that maybe Hannibal actually genuinely _likes_ him.”I have to go,” says Will, glancing at the door. “I have to go to work and I have to arrange for someone to feed my dogs and I’m...not normally so impulsive, Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal’s face seems to drop, just a fraction. “I understand, Will, but I…” Hannibal moves across to a small side table, removing a business card for a drawer. “I would very much like if you would consider calling me.” He gives Will the card and for just a moment, their fingertips brush against one another and Will can’t deny that the electricity is still there, whatever magnetic pull that Hannibal seems to have seems to still be drawing him in.

He doesn’t have the heart to turn him down now, to tell him that he won’t call, to say that he doesn’t socialise in Alana’s circles or _at all_. He looks at Hannibal one more time, committing his face to memory and he smiles slightly. “See you again,” he lies and Hannibal smiles back at him.


End file.
